When the wind blows It leaves some kind of residue Microscopic dust and pollen particles, A rustic smell, Lead-heavy fumes And sometimes, a taste of death When the wind blows I remember running around with sheep It reminds me swinging on aerial roots Reminds me of the hour long roundas and kati Reminds me of … More 018: WHEN THE WIND BLOWS…
Mirror mirror on the wall Tell me it’s time for the ball Or is it the mall? Well, maybe I’m having a ball Or maybe it’s just a mental… Weary in this enslavement Thought it’s was an oversight But what has it made me? A sailor maybe Or a wager? Well, I don’t even know … More 016: SHANGHAIED
Drips and drops Oh how they make their stops Makes me wonder how They make my breathe blow If you know me then you understand my obsession for the rain. Well, obsession might be a strong word; let’s put it as a strong love for rain (lol). I like watching as the drops fall and … More 007: EARTH CHILD!
Every drop, every drip, every gush Follows a course No matter the cause Because as it falls A story is told As it flows The hidden are unearthed As it meanders A canvas meets its owner It makes me wish to be As consistent, as loyal, as hopeful Like the waters Every drop, every drip, … More 005: LIKE THE WATERS